


Different

by ThisIsWhereTrashGoes



Series: The King of Hearts verse [2]
Category: Cuphead (Video Game)
Genre: Devil was a mortal au, Dice is an empath(of sorts)!au, Implied Devildice, M/M, Something I wrote at almost three in the morning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 17:29:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15801243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisIsWhereTrashGoes/pseuds/ThisIsWhereTrashGoes
Summary: The Devil watched as Dice stepped effortlessly into character, softening his expression to show understanding but not pity. That man didn’t want pity. It would only cause him to lock up and vehemently refuse any help.And Dice knew that. He knew just what role he needed to step into to get people to open up. And the Devil loved watching the man work, knowing that, as he listened to this man, he was planning for a way to get him to put the final nail in his own coffin.It was fascinating to watch and if he hadn’t known any better, he would have thought that Dice actually cared about the poor bastard.





	Different

Money.

Ugh. _Typical._

The Devil sighed as he watched the casino floor with the same amount of interest in watching paint dry.

_Money._

That’s all anybody ever seemed to want lately, and while greed was one of the easiest sins to work with (and one that he loved to exploit), even that got _boring_ after a while.

All that week, all he had to do was dangle simple riches in front of people’s faces and they’d be signing away their souls within the hour.

And today was no different.

He couldn’t even compel himself to visit the casino floor that night, resigning himself to just watching his manager handle all the deal makings on his own. With nothing better to do, then to find every reason to ignore the growing stack of paperwork on his desk, he sat on his throne, watching his employees work tirelessly to keep things running smoothly.  

  ** _Money_**.

That’s what a small group of men drinking at the bar wanted, just like the many others who’d walked in that day. They had been scoping out the place, no doubt thinking of the best ways to win big tonight.

The first one dreamed of living among the affluent, desperate to get out of his mediocre middle-class life.

_Boring._

The second one had a bit of a gambling problem and was now in danger of going broke.

_Yawn._

The third one was just arrogant, eager to see just how much he could play the system and how much money he could run off with.

_Predictable._

He raised a bow as he saw his dutiful manager make his way closer to the group. He had no doubt that they’d be easy targets for him. And he casually watched as Dice chatted with them, likely talking them into going to try their luck at some of the tables.

Two of them left to do just that, but Dice stopped the second one from leaving.

The Devil leaned further, squinting to get a better look. He saw green instead of Dice’s usual black eyes as he pulled the man to the side. The Devil hummed, curiously, disappearing in a puff of black smoke.

Why was Dice targeting him? A man that was on the verge of bankruptcy was nothing special. Easy to swindle into betting big, right? He thought, reappearing in a dark corner of the casino floor. Changing his looks in order to fit in with the rest of the customers in this place, he quietly took a seat at the bar.

Close enough to properly ease drop, but not close enough to alert the other two of his presence. He ordered a drink as he listened to their conversation.

The man was apprehensive about playing it seemed, fearful that he would lose what little he had left. He’d already lost so much, and his buddies were none the wiser.

They couldn’t know that he’d sunk so low. That his habits had drove away his wife and child, and how much he’d mourned when they’d left. That wasn’t who he was to his boys. They were only in friendship for the fun, not the hard times. They believed those things were reserved for the women in their lives, who were willing to take their emotional baggage and keep their secrets.  

He rolled his eyes, long since grown bored of societal rules and expectations. He glanced over discreetly, making sure not to be caught staring.  

He watched as Dice stepped effortlessly into character, softening his expression to show understanding but not pity. This man didn’t want pity. It would only cause him to lock up and vehemently refuse any help.

And Dice _knew_ that. He knew just what role he needed to step into to get people to open up. And the Devil loved watching the man work, knowing that, as he listened to this man, he was planning for a way to get him to put the final nail in his own coffin.

It was fascinating to watch and if he hadn’t known any better, he would have thought that Dice _actually cared_ about the poor bastard.

But that’s how his kind worked, wasn’t it? He thought, remembering an unfortunate encounter with his “brother”, Michael, who was far from pleased to see what had happened to one of “Father’s” empaths.

This is what empaths were meant to do. Doomed to be the glorified shrinks of the world. Drawn to the miserable…

The desperate…

The _broken_ …

And he remembered how Lucifer had warned him about their ability to get in a person’s head. Their natural ability to get people to open up.

They could make people feel safe around them. Get them to trust them…

Until they broke and unleashed their woes for the empath to take. And that’s what empaths were there for. To _take_ the pain and the misery. To convince people to let them take the weight off their shoulders. Let them take the weight for them, leaving that person’s heart a little lighter to take on the world for another day.

All while the empath only continues to take and _take_ , allowing themselves to drown in another’s anguish. And in many cases, they never stopped, wanting to help people with the “virtue” they’d been “blessed” with…

Until they broke under the pressure of it all.

And Dice should be the same. He shouldn’t be in this casino, working for the Devil himself. He should be out there, opening his heart to any poor sod that needed to vent.

But _that’s_ what made Dice so _interesting_. Because he wasn’t out _there_. He was _here_. Not because he necessarily had to be, but because he _wanted_ to be.

He’d wanted to be _different_. And the angels just couldn’t understand how someone wouldn’t be thrilled to selflessly be the public’s emotional punching bag. And it was funny how they regarded his manager with such _pity_. As if he was some sort of _tragedy_! Ha!

Even better was the fact that they thought _he’d_ somehow done this to him.

Hardly. That boy was delightfully _wicked_ all on his own. And sure, he might have helped lead him on the wrong path, but Dice was a _more_ than willing to follow, preferring to use his abilities to _use_ people rather than help them.

And those green eyes of his were able to _see_. See into people’s hearts. See how their emotions and feelings transformed their souls, revealing how they truly saw themselves inside. No matter how _ugly_. And Dice could _see_ just as much as he could _feel_. Because the price for using these powers was leaving his heart vulnerable and open to the emotional turmoil of a person and if Dice wasn’t careful, he could get lost in it all.

He’s seen the man have plenty of breakdowns in their early years of working together.

But now, Dice knew better. He knew how to play this game, keeping himself afloat as he worked to get what he needed from person to person.

And now?

He was quite good at it. Using his abilities to connect with people in a way like no other…and it was fascinating how easily you could get someone to do just about anything once such trust was gained.

He watched as Dice regarded the man with sympathy, assuring him that he wasn’t a failure as he voiced his fear of losing what little he had left.

Dice squeezed his shoulder, shaking his head gently. “Everyone has their vices, Emanuel. Some say that it makes a person weak for falling for such things. For letting it consume our lives so detrimentally…but it’s also a part of who we are. You live for the thrill of the gamble and it takes _true_ strength to take your faults and turn them into your greatest _weapon_.”

How ironic.

“How do I do that? I can’t afford to lose much more…I’ve already lost my family…”

“You never really know how much you miss someone until their gone. The only stable thing in this world that you can rely on. The one that would always be there…or so you thought. Until one day, she’s gone.” Dice sighed, looking away with false regret. “And maybe you were a bit of an absent father, but it was only because you were trying your hardest to have the money to give your girls everything they could ever want, yeah? They were your heart and soul…and now they’re gone.”

“Yeah…’M guessin’ ya lost your family, too?”

And Dice only smiled sadly, as if he was _actually_ remembering some lost wife and child. All of it was ridiculous, but this man was just eating it up.

And Dice was quite convincing. It helped that he could actually feel what the man did, allowing him to relate despite not having the experience.

“So, what happened?”

“Well, I wasn’t as lucky as you. Let’s just say that. I lost them, but you don’t have to lose yours.”

And the man perked up, a spark of hope lighting up those eyes. “…Really?”

“I wanna help you get your family back. I know all the tricks to these games. Help ya win big. Help ya get what you need to get back on your feet and convince them to come back to ya.”

And the man trusted him, thinking they’d bonded over some shared experience. And he watched as Dice led him away, pretending to be helping him cheat at the games. And he watched as the man won round after round.

And he watched as the man saw a chance of a debt-free life and a chance of his family returning with every round won. Tears in his eyes as his friends congratulated him.

He’d done it.

He had his ticket to a better life in his hands.

And Dice, the sleazy bastard, convinced him to play just _one_ more game for good measure.

Bet it all! Double your money!

And _oh_ , that grin as Dice watched the man lose it all in an _instant_.

That wicked, crooked smile as the man broke down right then and there. He was broke. He had _nothing_.

Which made him just _perfectly_ desperate enough to make a deal.

And the Devil watched as Dice presented the man his, quite limited, options. He could have his life back. All he had to do was sign over his soul to the Devil himself.

 _God_ , he loved watching that man work. Reducing a man to tears like that, only to revel in what he’d done to him.

Though, he couldn’t help but wonder how Dice had broken away from his fated duties. Empaths did what they did because they were supposed to be good people with good hearts. They helped people because they thrived off the happiness of the people that they helped. It encouraged them to keep going. To keep giving and giving and _giving_ ,

Until there was nothing left to give.

So why was Dice different? All the suffering he caused, technically, should be detrimental to him. From his understanding, Empaths _needed_ that fix. They _had_ to help people. It was in their nature.

So how was Dice so  _different_?

And he watched as the man signed that contract.

And he watched as Dice lead the men out the doors, the other two also leaving with less money in their pockets.

And he watched as his manager walked over to him and took a seat, ordering a drink.

And he watched as Dice pulled out a small stack of contracts, including the man’s, sliding it over to him.

He couldn’t help but chuckle. Of course, Dice would have seen through his disguise.

“How’d I do, boss?” He asked, smirking as those green eyes returned to black and he took a sip of his scotch.

“Heh, quite the haul tonight, Dice. I’m proud of ya.” He said, with genuine praise as he flipped through the contracts.

And he’d missed how those green eyes returned as his eyes lit up just a bit more.

And he’d missed how Dice had held himself a little straighter. A little prouder.

And he’d missed the way that Dice had quietly regarded him with a subtle sense of admiration and sheer delight at such a little compliment.

How he’d always seemed to walk a little lighter every time he’d pleased him. Forgetting that, if he didn’t watch himself, Dice could feel his pride and confidence in him. Feel just how much he enjoyed his company and how much he respected him.

But he’d missed all that, not realizing just how much power he’d held over his manager.

And Dice was more than happy to keep it that way.  

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always appreciated! I'd love to know what you think!


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